


Infirmary

by Itrustyoutokillme



Category: Prison Break
Genre: F/M, Fluffy, Some Spoilers, True Love, non Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 22:16:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11091039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itrustyoutokillme/pseuds/Itrustyoutokillme
Summary: Following the shock confession of Terrence Steadman, Lincoln has been exonerated, but Michael must serve the rest of his sentence in fox River.  The one thing keeping him going is Sara.





	Infirmary

**Author's Note:**

> co-write with the lovely Jess <3 As always, she is the Sara to my Michael. I can't remember if we intended this to be a longer fic than it is, but sadly we no longer write as a pair, so i am unsure if this is going to be a one shot or i will continue it alone...or with a new Sara? CVs please? lol

There was absolutely no reason for Michael to still need to be diabetic. Lincoln was exonerated following the shock confession and sudden appearance of Terrance Steadman. Apparently the guilt got to him and it even came out he was in a romantically sexual relationship with his sister. Michael never forgot the sickness he felt reading that one in the papers. The only reason Michael still wanted to be diabetic was to calm the fluttering his heart every time he was sitting, as he was now, on the raised infirmary bed in the well lit room at the back of the prison. Sara Tancredi was the only reason.

Sara rearranged the insulin and needles on the tiny tray, and glanced up to Michael. He had seemed more relaxed since his brother had been released, that didn't surprise her. He was quieter though. They had been training a new doctor, and in the process Sara had had a few days off. She cleared her throat then looked back down. "And how are you today?"

Michael’s smile lit up his face and he watched her as she moved around the tools and implements so gracefully he thought he might melt from watching her with a burning passion. He had missed her over the last few days, and the new doctor was less than likeable, using his arm as some kind of practise board for darts. “I’m good,” he understated. “And yourself?”

"I'm alright," Sara did her best to keep her gaze off of him as she replied. She picked up a cotton ball, pressing it to the opening of the peroxide as she dipped it quickly upside down. "Roll up your sleeve?"

Michael sat up from is hunched position, gently working the edge of his long, cotton sleeve with his long fingers. He pushed and rolled the fabric all the way to his elbow, watching his hand as he did so. He took a long breath, feeling the creep of a blush invade his cheeks but didn’t look up to her. “I missed you, Sara.”

"I bet you did," Sara teased quietly, brushing over the fact he had referred to her by her first name. She slid her gloves on and took hold of his arm, keeping it steady while she quickly administered his shot. She pressed a cotton ball to it and pulled the needle out. "Nurse Katie said Dr. Phillips is anything but gentle when it comes to the needles."

“Yeah?” Michael smiled wider, intrigued as to what else nurse Katie had said to Sara about the last two days. Had she noticed his pining? He tilted his head a little and let his fingers brushed over her latex covered hand as he moved to apply pressure to the cotton ball on his shot site. “Katie should try being on the receiving end,” he laughed, looking up to her with warmth in his eyes. “You’re very gently compared to Dr. Phillips.”

Sara quickly pulled her hand away when Michael touched her. She took her gloves off and tossed them to the side. "You and Dr. Phillips aren't on a first name basis yet?"

A breathy laugh left Michael’s lips and he smirked, looking down to his feet as they dangled over the edge of the bed. Was Sara jealous? “Uh…no…” he said softly. “…Would it bother you if I did?”

"No," Sara looked to Michael, meeting his eyes for the first time during their visit. "But it might bother Dr. Phillips. And Pope if he found out."

“Oh…” Michel sounded a little sad. “…Should I stop…Should I call you Dr. Tancredi?” He asked shyly, lifting the cotton ball on his arm and inspecting the tiny pinprick of a hole that was a deep red under the skin’s surface.

Sara began to toss the needle in the hazardous waste bin and shook her head. "I think we've been down that road before, Michael, and it doesn't much matter what I ask you to call me, does it?" She crossed her arms and glanced into the hallway. "Talk to your brother lately?"

Michael looked at her confused and swallowed hard. “Yeah, he comes to see me once a week. Are you okay?” Michael asked quickly, even though he had no real right to ask it. Sara seemed upset about something but he hadn’t seen her for a few days to pinpoint his worry.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sara said softly, glancing up at him. She opened Michael's file and jotted down a few notes. "Is there anything else I can do for you today?"

Michael inhaled hard with thought and as he did so, his bandage rubbed on the back of his shirt. “My burn…” he began, unbuttoning the top layer of prison issues he was wearing. “It itches a lot. I think it might be infected.”

"Michael Scofield's actually complaining about something?" Sara arched an eyebrow in amusement, and set her pen down. She moved across the room, pulling the privacy curtain over. "Have you kept the bandage on; did anyone change it for you while I was gone? Is there any pain, or just itching?" She motioned to the grey shirt he was left sitting in. "Do you need help with that?"

Michael paused, his shirt half way up his torso. He was kind of glad she asked to help because it was actually really painful to try and remove alone. Sucre was nearly always undressing him, which had led top some tasteful whisperings around gen pop. “Please…” he winched, pulling one of his arms free and screwing his face up as his searched flesh rippled under the fabric. “…Its just itching. And there has been some yellowy discharge too.”

"Sounds lovely," Sara murmured, walking towards him. She slid her hands under his shirt, brushing her fingertips across his chest as she helped to push his shirt gently up. "Do you regret it?"

“Regret what?” Michael spoke softly, his breath leaving his mouth and settling itself on her hair as he helps his shirt off. She was so close he could smell her soap, sweet and sensual on her skin, invading his senses.

"Getting thrown in here to be near him now that's he's gone?" Sara moved around to his back, gently peeling the bandage off. She made a face. "Definitely infected. I'll redress it then put you on an antibiotic, you can take it both the time you come in for your shot, but I'm going to need you to come in once every night too, for about a week."

Michael let out a laugh. “What makes you think I got thrown in here to be near him?” he said softly, shuddering on the table as she touched him. He smiled to himself and looked down at his white knuckles gripping the edge of the table. “what makes you think I didn’t get thrown in here to be near you?”

Sara dabbed at his back with a cotton ball, then laughed softly, tossing it in the wastebin before pressing a new bandage to his back. "I don't think a structural engineer robs a bank just for kicks a month before his brother is supposed to get executed, Michael." She smiled softly. "Maybe I'd believe that if I was as good as looking as your brother."

Michael frowned and tilted his head sideways so he could see her out of the corner of his eye. “You think Lincoln is good looking?”

Sara finished bandaging him up and smirked, walking back in front of him. "Not as good looking as some other people in here."

“Oh really?” Michael smirked, watching her move in front of him and pull her gloves off with an echoed snap. “Like who?” he pried, letting go of the table and resting his hands to his lap. “Anyone I know?”

Sara set her gloves down on the table and turned back to him, smiling and shrugging her shoulders. "I'm sure you can figure it out, Michael."

Michael knew what she was talking about but he wanted to make sure. He quickly looked over to the door, spying the guard’s back on the other side of the glass and then reached out and gliding his fingertip down Sara’s forearm. “I’m sure…” he whispered, watching his hand smooth over her skin, setting it ablaze with his touch. When their hands finally met, he blinked and looked upwards towards her hazel orbs, his breath catching in his throat.

Sara trailed her fingertips against his, feeling her face flush as she focused her gaze on their hands. She met his eyes again, a slow smirk playing across his face. "Yeah. Captain Bellick is much, much more attractive than your brother. . ."

Michael laughed softly, trying not to catch the attention of the guard outside. He tightened his grip on her fingers, brushing his thumb over her knuckles and smiling up at her. He felt relaxed, and the surge of adrenaline through his body told him it was the right thing to do. What felt even more right was when he inhaled quickly, sitting upright and leaning forward into her, pulling her face to his until their lips met. He didn’t move for a few seconds, giving her the chance to pull away if he had overstepped a mark, but when she didn’t he deepened the kiss in haste, gently sucking on her bottom lip.

Sara emitted a small noise as he kissed her. After a long moment she pulled away, glancing down. After a second, she pressed her hand to his cheek, taking a deep breath. "Michael. . ."

“…I’m sorry,” Michael said quickly, leaning into her touch and dropping his head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

"Michael. . ." Sara repeated, biting her bottom lip. She glanced over her shoulder, then looked back to him, leaning in for another kiss.

Michael met her lips with earnest, digging his fingers into her hair and holding her face to his. Her tongue tasted like her lunch and a small moan escaped his throat while they kissed. He stroked her hair and run his tongue over her bottom lip, teasing the skin with his own each time his face moved against hers.

Sara pulled away, taking a step back and clearing her throat. She looked to the floor. "We can't."

Michael was taken back when her lips were torn from his and he panted softly. “I know…” he agreed sadly, immediately missing her lips on his. “…Sara…” he said gently, looking up to her again but she averted her gaze. “You kissed me back.”

"I did," Sara agreed softly. She cleared her throat and glanced down. "I did. And you should go."

Michael looked down at the floor and licked his lips. It was a normal tiled linoleum floor, just like in any hospital, but it was a welcome distraction for him because it seemed he had made Sara uncomfortable. He reached beside him and pulled on his shirt, gritting his teeth against the pain that burned through his shoulder. He hopped to the floor and sighed, walking past her so their bodies nearly touched. He paused, right next to her and let his fingers brush hers. “I’ll see you later, Sara.”

Sara pulled the privacy curtain back over and picked his file back up, keeping her gaze off of him. "I'll see you tonight, Mr. Scofield."

  
The infirmary was different at night. It was darker, and there were more shadows. It was a total reflection of Michael’s mood as he waited for Dr. Phillips to come and administer his antibiotics. He figured it was Dr. Phillips anyway because he doubted Sara would even want to see him after what he did. The second she had called him Mr. Scofield, he has lost his heart.

Sara walked through the infirmary door and the CO flashed a smile at her. "Good evening, Dr. Tancredi. I've got to finish my rounds before I take Scofield back to his cell. You want me to handcuff him to the table? I'll only be about ten minutes."

Sara shook her head slowly. "No, you don't need to cuff him."

Michael heard her voice before he looked up and saw her. If it was possible, she was even more beautiful than she had been this afternoon. He didn’t know if he should give her a smile or ignore her so he just stared, his eyes burning into her profile. He knew she could see him. He wanted her to know he could see her too, inside and out. He wanted her know he didn’t regret kissing her and he never, ever would.

The CO gave Sara one last nod and warned Michael to behave himself before leaving. Sara moved over the medicine cabinet, taking out two pills and bringing them over to Michael. "You want me to get you some water?"

“I want you to talk to me,” Michael said firmly, his voice softened with concern. “Sara, we kissed,” he stated bluntly, trying to hold her gaze that she was so desperately averting. “I kissed you and you kissed me back. You want it too.”

Sara poured some water into a dixie cup and handed it to him. "I don't get attached to things if I know they won't last."

Michael toyed with the pills in his palm for a second before he put them and the cup of water down on the table next to the bed he was sitting on. “Sara, please…” he tried again, brushing her hand with his. “…What are you afraid of?”

"Take your medication," Sara told him firmly, moving away from him and sitting down. She crossed her arms. "Michael, I'll lose my job if something happens between us. I'll lose a lot more than my job."

Michael didn’t move to her, and he didn’t take the pills either. He looked down to his hands in his lap and then sighed heavily, moving to lay on the bed. He threw his arm over his face, covering his eyes and then silence fell upon them. “I shouldn’t have kissed you…” he said sadly.

Sara stood up and moved closer to him. She didn't reach out to touch him, but she softened her voice. "Michael, is that really how you feel?"

Slowly, Michael peeled his arm from his face and rolled his head against the cardboard texture of the pillow to look at her. “If I had to chose, between playful flirting and scaring you off…If I could live this afternoon again…” he paused, looking away from her and staring blankly at the ceiling. “…I wouldn’t have kissed you.”

Sara sighed and shook her head, reaching out for his arm. "Michael, you didn't scare me."

Michael dropped his gaze to her hand on his skin, rolling his eyes back up to meet hers and gulping hard. “Sara, you called me Mr. Scofield. There were no guards around. It was just us.”

"You don't scare me, Michael," Sara said evenly. "You don't. You overwhelm me, yes. But. . . why did you even kiss me?"

“Truthfully?” Michel said with a raised voice. “I don’t know,” he said softly, shuffling on the bed a little. “I thought you’d want it too.”

"I did want it, Michael," Sara told him quietly. She finally took a hold of his arm, squeezing gently. "Believe me. I kissed you back, didn't I?"

Michael smiled weakly, his arm burning from her hand on his skin. “I know…I know you are not allowed to do this…” he motioned between them with a finger. “…I know we can’t be together whilst you’re the prison doctor and I’m an inmate…” he said, pushing himself into a sitting position and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He parted them slowly, closing them around her thighs. “…But I want it so badly, Sara. I want you.”

"Michael. . ." Sara whispered. She leaned her forehead against his. "You barely know me and I barely know you and. . . what is it you want, Michael? And why?"

Michel chuckled. “Sara, you know everything about me. You’ve studied my file,” he licked his lips, looking down away from her eyes. “And I know about you. I know a lot about you,” he admitted softly. “I want you to love me like I love you, but first I need to tell you why a structural engineer robs a bank…”

"I wasn't right?" Sara asked softly. She glanced to the clock, then moved closer to Michael. "Not because of your brother?"

Michael let his hand find her hip while the other busied itself with tucking some strands of hair from her face. “Yes, it was for Linc, but not to be near him,” he said, gulping as he looked up to her again. “I worked for the company that built Fox River. I used the blue prints to devise an escape for Lincoln and myself.” When she didn’t say anything, Michael shook his head and pulled his grey shirt over his head, leaving his torso naked and exposed to her view. “This isn’t a tattoo I got because it looked appealing,” he laughed timidly. “Every line. Every image. Everything was part of a plan to get Lincoln out.”

"You were. . ." Sara stepped away from him. "You were. . ." She cleared her throat and glanced to the hallway. "You were going to break out."

Michael felt his heart snap as she stepped from him. “Sara, please…” he begged, following her gaze to the door. “…Please try to understand why. My brother, my entire family, was about to die for a crime he hadn’t committed. I had to do something.”

"If. . . if the wrong person. . ." Sara cleared her throat and crossed her arms. "Where were you planning on breaking out from?"

Michael fiddled with his fingers, looking down at his clammy hands. He answered the question she already knew the answer too with silence.

"Here." Sara's voice raised a little. "Look at me, Michael. Were you breaking out of here?"

Michael lifted his gaze to hers like a scolded schoolboy and he nodded slowly. “Yes.”

"The flirting, the innuendo, the. . ." Sara cleared her throat and shook her head. "All of it. You needed me to trust you. To let you in here as often as you wanted."

“No,” Michel said quickly. “Sara, I never wanted to include you in the plan. I never wanted to give you the chance to get hurt if anything when wrong,” he said, hopping from the table and moving towards her on the other side of the room. “I needed to be here, and I looked forward to it ever single day for every reason except this was my way out. Everything I ever told you was real, Sara. Everything.”

"Everything?" Sara took a step back again. "You said you'd been planning this, Michael. For how long? Did you. . . did you research me?"

Michael licked his lips nervously and looked away from her. “Months. From the second Lincoln told me he was coming to Fox River,” he shoved his hands into his pockets and began walking towards her slowly. “You’re name is Sara Tancredi, you’re birthday is May 1st. Your mother was an alcoholic and your father has always campaigned in the government, even before he was made governor. You graduated among the top of your class from Northwestern and worked at county before you began working here.” He stopped, almost in front of her and looked into her eyes again. “You have no siblings, you live ten minutes away from your nearest Starbucks, which you go to every Thursday after work, and you really do want to be the change you want to see in the world.” When he finished, Michael swallowed a lump in his throat.

Sara had to sit down. She leaned against her desk, crossing her arms and feeling a hot blush creep up her cheeks. She sat in silence for a moment before a thought invaded her. She glanced up at him, clearly angry, "Be the change you want to see in the world. You knew."

Michael nodded. “I read your yearbook.”

Sara bit her bottom lip and shook her head. "It was all a lie. This has all been a lie."

Michael shook his head, wrenching his hands from his pockets and closing the gap between them. “No, don’t say that. I never lied to you,” Michael said honestly. It was true. He hadn’t ever lied to her simply because she had never asked anything that involved the plan. There was only one lie and that was his induced diabetes. “Everything I ever said to you…did to you…” he whispered, sliding his hands down her forearms like he had before. “It was real.”

Sara crossed her arms, and met his eyes. "And you're really diabetic?"

“You know what? Enough. I’m done,” Michael said irritated. “I’m not diabetic. I needed to be to come to the infirmary, but then when Linc was exonerated I wanted to be to see you. Not seeing you every day was like someone had taken my heart from me.”

"Sit back down at take your pills, Michael." Sara did her best to keep her tone even, giving the situation. She crossed her arms tighter, then uncrossed them, picking up his chart. "The guard will be back in a minute, and if you're not going to take your medication there's no reason for you to be here."

“You want me to go?” Michael said softly, picking up the pills and watching them in his palm. “Because I don’t want to.” Michael looked over to her and sighed, slapping his hand into his face and swallowing his pills. “I think we should talk. I want to tell you everything. Can you…maybe…” Michael looked to the door, watching for the guide. “…Keep me here.”

"I don't want to hear everything!" Sara raised her voice a little, then cleared it, crossing her arms. "Do you have any idea what position you put me in by telling me what you did, Michael? And how am I supposed to explain why you don't need to come in for your insulin shot anymore?"

“Don’t…” Michael said quickly, shaking his head. “…I can keep coming.”

"I can't keep giving you insulin when you don't need it, Michael!" Sara hissed, standing up and taking a step towards him. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to your body? How are you even. . ." She cut off as she heard the clang of the guard's keys. "Not another word, Michael."

Just as the guard walked noisily through the doors, Michael brushed his fingers across hers one last time. “I don’t care…” he whispered as he walked past her towards the guard.

Sara gave Michael one last look, and wished the guard a good night as he escorted Michael back to his cell. As soon as they were gone, she reached into her drawer and took out her purse, ready to go home. She was headed for a long night.

  
Michael hadn’t slept all night. He tossed and turned on his bunk, much to the annoyance of Sucre who had kept kicking the springs above his head. He physically itched to get to the infirmary the next day, practically skipping into the green floored room and perching himself on the edge of the bed. He swung his feet under the table, looking around the room excitedly. Sara had been mad at him, he could tell, but he was still giddy with the thought of seeing her.

Katie walked into the room, the tray containing what he needed for his insulin shot on the table. She set it down, then moved over to get his file. "Good morning, Mr. Scofield."

Michael’s head snapped up from staring at his lap and he let out a short laugh and shook his head to the side. “Where’s Dr. Tancredi?” He asked smoothly, watching Katie read his file.

"That's funny. . ." She murmured under her breath, setting his file back down. "Dr. Tancredi called in sick this morning. First time since she's been here, I think."

Michael rolled up his sleeves, abnormally eager to get his shot done as quickly as possible, and then held out his arm for the nurse. “Oh…” he said softly, looking at his arm. “…If you talk to her, can you tell her I hope she gets better?”

"I'm not sure that's appropriate, Mr. Scofield," Katie gave him a long look. "She'll be in later this afternoon. And you can roll your sleeve back down. She noted she doesn't want to give you your shots today. She thinks your building up a resistance. You won't need to come in this afternoon."

Michael frowned and pulled his sleeve back down, swallowing hard when his mouth suddenly went dry. “Okay…” he said, calm and composed. He watched as Katie flagged the guard back in to retrieve him and hopped from the table. “Thanks for letting me know,” Michael forced a smile and joined the guard at the doorway.

Katie gave Michael one last nod, before moving onto another patient. It was several hours before Sara finally made it into work. She collapsed at her desk and opened Michael's file, staring down at his picture. With a disgusted sigh, she closed it.

Michael could see Sara had returned to work from the yard. It wasn’t hard to spot her white coat and flowing red locks from the spot he was standing at, even if she didn’t look out towards him and notice him staring. He was walking idly across the yard, eyes focused up at the doctor, when he bumped into the back of a tall guy who spun around to face him with a scowl.

“You want something, punk?” He growled, his voice deep and vibrating through the air with a menacing presence. He clenched one fist and pounded it into an open palm while his friends cheered him on from behind him.

Michael watched his hand twist in his palm, intimidating to anyone except a man with a great need to be in the infirmary. His eyes scanned the yard. Two guards were within stepping distance. Michael pulled his hands from his pockets, his heart racing in his chest and looked up to the goon with a forced smirk. Without warning, Michael gritted his teeth and lash out, striking him across the face with his closed fist and then pushing against his chest. There was an almighty uproar from the inmates as the inmate recoiled and then lunged at Michael, colliding his fist with his face and splitting open his cheek with one punch and his eyebrow with the next. Whistles blew and the jingle of keys was the last thing Michael heard before he was buried under a mass of sweaty, dirty men and passed out.

Katie stuck her head around the corner of Sara's office, heaving a sigh. "Sara, we had a fight in the yard. They said someone got pounded on pretty good before the guards could stop it. You have time to check it out before you go, or you want me to handle it?"

Sara closed the file she was looking at and nodded. "Yeah, it's okay, I don't need to rush home."

Michael couldn’t open his eyes but he could feel the guards carrying his body. He swung in the air, his limbs numb and lifeless. His mouth tasted like he had been chewing metal because it was full of his blood, overflowing and dribbling down his chin, soaking the blue of his shirt purple. Finally his body stopped moving and he went deaf to the room, only feeling the pain scorching through his body.

Sara nodded at the CO that stood outside the heavy metal door. She hoisted her medical bag further up on her shoulder and tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. "Who do we have causing trouble tonight?"

“Scofield,” The CO said with a tired sigh. He hooked his thumbs into his leather belt and rocked back on his shoes. “Started a fight in the yard with Curtis,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Didn’t have a chance.”

"Scofield started a fight?" Sara arched an eyebrow. She motioned for him to open the door. "Light, please."

“Yep,” the guard said, sliding his keys to the lock and twisting the key in the metallic mechanism. “He didn’t finish it though,” the guard snorted, pushing open the door with a creak and stepping back to allow her inside.

Sara took a step in the room and glanced back at the CO. "Thanks, I've got it from here. . ." She waited until he shut the door before moving closer to Michael. "Michael? Can you hear me?"

Michael closed his eyes and blinked a few times before rolling over to face her. The room was dimly lit and he tried to focus on the white figure before him. Finally, his eyes started to focus and he let out a short laugh, swallowing and looking away from her again. “You’re not here. I’m imagining you here because I want you here.”

Sara did her best to ignore her words as she kneeled down next to him. "Michael, can you sit up for me?" When he didn't respond, she opened her bag and took out a strip of gauze. Pouring peroxide on it, she dabbed it against the cuts on his face.

Michael winced away from her and let a growl. “Maybe you are here,” he said slowly, relaxing a letting her bathe his wounds. Finally he looked back up at her and watched her as she applied for peroxide to the cut on his cheek. “Thank you.”

Sara dropped the gauze to the floor and grabbed another piece, shaking her head. "Just doing my job, Michael."

Michael was silent for a moment and then he looked away from her. “I’m glad…you’re doing your job I mean…” Michael said slowly, staring at the wall beside her. “I was afraid…” he paused, swallowing again. He lifted his hand to her wrist and pulled her hand from his face, sitting up to face her. “…I was afraid I had made you question yourself.”

"You did." Sara pulled her wrist from him and dropped the second piece of gauze to the floor. She took a small butterfly bandage out of her bag and pressed it above his eye. "Anywhere else?"

Michael ignored her question. “Sara, please. Don’t be so cold. That isn’t you and I know it.”

Sara glanced away and pulled her bag to her. "Anywhere else, Michael?"

“Why?” Michael said softly, reaching for her hand again. “Tell me what I have done and how it can be fixed, because I can’t even begin to understand what you are thinking right now,” Michael said a little frustrated. “Please…”

"I don't think it can be fixed," Sara said softly. "I didn't know it was you down here, or I wouldn't have come, Michael. I was the one who made the mistake of letting myself feel something for you in the first place. Maybe I deserved to have you use me and lie to me. From now on Katie or Dr. Phillips will be taking care of whatever medical needs you have, and I'd prefer for you not to ask Katie any personal questions about me." She cleared her throat. "And stop getting into fights. You're going to jeopardize you're early parole."

“I don’t care,” Michael said firmly, his word almost a desperate whisper. “I don’t want to be on the outside if the only time I’ll ever see you is walking between building in the yard,” he said quickly, looking to the wall beside him and waving his hand at it, motioning to the outside on the other side. “I never meant to lie to you. I’d never, ever wanted to hurt you.”

Sara stood up and leaned against the wall, dropping her bag and crossing her arms. She tried to keep her voice low. "You've done a pretty poor job then, Michael!"

“I know…” Michael began, stepping to the floor and gaining his footing shakily. “…I know what I did can never be forgiven. And it kills me to know that I have hurt you, you have to believe that,” he nodded, stepping towards her. “What do I have to say? What can I say?”

"I don't know. . ." Sara trailed off and shook her head. "I don't, Michael. I wish I did, but I just . . . don't."

Michael licked his lips and looked to his feet. “Sara…I’m so sorry,” Michael said sincerely, stepping towards her and closing the gap fully. His hand brushed her elbow and a spark shot up his arm, straight to his hand. “I want you to believe that. I need you to believe that.”

"Michael. . ." Sara fluttered her eyes shut and then sighed, at a loss for words. "I. . ."

Michael sucked in a breath, and trailed his fingertips down her forearm lightly. He watched his hand move, barely touching her but feeling every single trace of her skin. “I know you feel this too.”

"Michael," Sara tried to move away, but she was blocked by the wall. "Stop."

“Sara…” Michael whispered, leaning into her and supporting his weight by resting his hand against the wall beside her. “…I want…” he whispered, nuzzling his face into her hair and inhaling her scent.

Sara turned into him, just slightly, closing her eyes again. Her voice came out hoarse. "We can't. . ."

Michael dropped his hand from the wall, resting it against her torso and dragging it down to her hip. “We can…We are alone,” he breathed, feeling his skin prickle to life. “We both want this.”

"There's a guard right outside the door." Sara's breathing was becoming more shallow and she tried to get control of it. "And you're still an inmate, I'm still your doctor."

Michael pressed his lips to her neck and let his lips linger on her skin. “I still want you…”

Sara tried to pull away again. "You're crazy."

“I can’t stop wanting you, Sara…” Michael breathed. “…I think about you all day and all night. I don’t care if there is a guard outside. I can be quiet,” he smirked, letting his chest rumble with a low, hushed laugh.

Sara tensed a little, turning to give him her full attention. "You actually expect me to have sex with you?"

Michael blushed a little. “This isn’t me wanting sex after being incarcerated, Sara…” Michael reasoned. “…If you don’t want this too, if you don’t feel…something…something more than you are admitting…” Michael lifted his head and stared straight into her eyes, feeling his heart flutter. “…Call the guard,” he dared.

Sara glanced away, towards the door where she heard the guard yelling at prisoner in another cell. "I wish I could hate you."

Michael lifted his hand up and brushed his fingers down her cheek, turning her face towards him. “Tell me what you want,” Michel whispered, his forehead touching hers and his lips barely millimetres from her face.

Sara rolled her forehead against his, finally bringing her hands up to touch him. She traced her fingertips down his cheeks. "I want for how I feel to be okay."

Michael swallowed hard and closed his eyes as she touched him. His entire body sprang to life and her touch sent a shiver down his spine. “It can…” he rasped, pushing her hair behind her ear and holding her face in his hands. He titled his head back, pressed his lips to hers and kissed her slowly, finally breaking it and looking deep into her eyes. “…How does that feel?”

She gingerly trailed her fingers down to his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. She pulled away, just slightly, so that their lips were barely brushing. "We shouldn't."

Michael’s eyes flickered over her face and he smiled. “I’ll take we shouldn’t over we can’t…” he smirked, seizing her lips again and pressing her against the wall with his bulk.

Sara let her head roll to the side as he moved his kisses down to her neck. "Everything there was to know about me is not on the papers you researched."

Michael trailed his lips across her skin, gently sucking on her neck and her collarbone as he spread his splayed hands over her shoulder under the white coat and pushed it off of her body. “What did I miss?” he whispered, kissing under her jaw line.

Sara tensed against him again, turning her head to look at him. "Like I'm an addict."

Michael shook his head and returned his lips to hers. “I don’t care,” he said softly. “I’m a convicted felon.”

"A drug addict, Michael. . ." Sara tried to push him off of her.

Michael took a step back and frowned at her. “I don’t care…” he repeated to her. “Sara, you could be anything and I’d still want you,” he paused, looking away from her and gulping. “I think I love you,” he said under his breath.

Sara almost did a double take, and she stood up a little straighter. "You think you what?!"

Michael snapped his gaze towards her and shrugged. “What? Nothing,” he said quickly. “I…I didn’t say anything.”

Sara crossed her arms tighter across her chest. "Michael, you have no idea whether or not you love me."

Michael blushed and panted hard. “I know what I feel. I just don’t want it to be one sided,” he said shyly.

Sara shook her head slowly, leaning down to pick up her bag. "I've been in here long enough. They're going to open the door to check on me anytime."

Michael moved to her side, pressing his arm into the wall so that she couldn’t get to the door. “Tell me…Sara, tell me it’s reciprocated. Tell me I am not totally infatuated with a woman who feels nothing for me.” He caught her gaze and he looked desperately in need of the truth.

"Of course I feel something for you, Michael," Sara whispered. "How can I not? You make me feel things I haven't felt in. . . I don't know if I've ever felt them."

Michael straightened up and let out a long held breath, stepping towards her and wrapping his arms around her for a hug. He had no idea why; he just wanted to feel her close to him. He pressed his lips to her hair and let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t want you to go.”

Sara pressed her face into his shoulder. "I just. . . I need a night to think about this, okay?" She pulled away. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow night. I can have you sent to the infirmary."

Michael pulled back and looked at her, nodding enthusiastically. He smiled nervously and watched his hand as he brushed some strands of her rustic hair from her brow. “Don’t change your mind, okay?” he chuckled weakly.

Sara took his hand in hers, squeezing it tightly. "Try not to get yourself killed, okay."

Michael nodded and let out a short burst of laughter as he looked down at their joined hands. “I promise.”

"Sit down." She pulled her hand away from his and motioned back to the bed. Moving away from him, she knocked once on the door. "Okay!"

The guard pulled the door open and squinted into the darkened room. Michael was sitting on the bed, his face beginning to swell from his beating and the doctor looked done. “All done, Doc?” he asked cheerily, watching Michael closely. He pointed a finger at him. “You’re lucky Curtis didn’t kill you.”

"All done." Sara gave an affirming nod to the officer. She looked back to Michael. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Scofield."

Michael gave her a nod and feigned pain as he moved slowly to lay back down on the bed, clutching his sides and wincing painfully. It hurt but not as bad as he wanted the officer to know about. He wanted to see Sara tomorrow, in the infirmary, and he would.

  
Sara got to work early the next morning. She went through paperwork, trying to file things away neatly and then dealt with several patients who she figured just wanted out of their cells more than they actually felt sick. After signing off on all their charts, she moved back to her office, glancing to the clock.

There was only so much Michael could do in a cell by himself and there was no way of telling the time. He figured, seeing as the other inmates were out in the yard already, it was mid morning some time, but he couldn’t be sure. He knew he’d see Sara today but she had said in the night and that seemed like too far away. Her scent still lingered in his senses and her touch on his skin. He wanted to see her now.

Sara glanced to the clock again, then down to her appointment sheet. Reaching for the phone, she dialled, then waited for someone to pick. Hearing the voice of a CO, she cleared her throat. "Yeah, do you have Scofield down there still? I need someone to bring him up for his insulin shot. I can't afford to run behind today." Glancing to the window, she saw Katie staring at her, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, he’s still here. You want him now?” the CO said half way through chewing down his lunch.

"If you don't mind," Sara looked to the clock again. "He's already ten minutes late." She hung up the phone and turned around to Katie. "What? He needs his shot."

Katie smirked and hugged the folder she was holding to her chest. “Mmm Hmm,” she sounded in her throat as she walked through the door and pushed it closed behind her. “I thought you didn’t care about Scofield. I thought you palmed him off on Dr. Phillips.”

"Dr. Phillips isn't here right now," Sara stated matter-of-factly. She turned around, pretending to look through her desk. "You can take care of him when he comes in, if you want."

Katie perched on the edge of Sara’s desk and looked down at her. Her eyes darted to the folder in front of Sara and she titled her head. “Scofield’s file…again,” she said softly, her grin growing wider. “Staring at his photograph again?” she teased.

Sara quickly shut the file and turned around, her arms crossed. "I do not stare at his picture. He's an inmate, Katie. I'm his doctor. That's it."

“Okay,” Katie said, pushing herself to her feet when she heard the shuffle of chains coming down the corridor. “Whatever you say,” she said slowly moving towards the door again. She pulled it open and looked out, seeing a handcuffed Michael being escorted down the hall. Protocol called for inmate in a recent altercation to be treated an volatile so he was restrained at the hands and shackled at the ankles. Katie looked back to Sara, her face more serious. “I don’t care what you do, just be careful.”

Sara followed Katie's gaze to where Michael was being led to the infirmary, then looked back to her. "I'm always careful." Without waiting for a response, she pushed out of her office, moving back to the examining room.

Michel’s feet dragged on the floor as he shuffled in his restraints, eagerly moving towards the examination room as quickly as he could. He lifted his head when the CO moved through the door and locked gazes with Sara, a tiny smile spreading across his face. The CO dragged him in after him, tugging on the chain between his wrists and he tugged on his belt as he spoke to Sara. “You want me to chain him up to the bed?”

"No," Sara shook her head a little, meeting the CO's gaze. "I'm going to need to check the wound on his back and I can't do that with him chained up. Thanks."

The CO shrugged and tugged his keys from his belt, kneeling and undoing the shackles at Michael’s feet. “If you say so,” he said, pushing himself to his feet when the shackles fell to the floor with a metallic clatter. Michael held out his wrists and the officer took off his cuffs, looping them on his belt and pushing Michael towards the bed. He met Sara’s gaze again and moved towards the door. “I’ll be along the corridor grabbing a coffee,” the CO said, closing the door behind him.

Sara rearranged her materials on the tray and glanced over to Michael. She grabbed her stethoscope and looped it around her neck, moving towards him. "How was your night in Ad Seg?"

Michael perched on the edge of the bed and looked up at her with a happy smile. “Lonely,” he said slowly, watching her move towards him.

Sara motioned for him to life his shirt up, then breathed against the metal of the stethoscope, trying to warm it up. "Missed Sucre?"

Michel bunched the hem of his grey t-shirt in his hands and lifted it up, exposing his chest to her. “I missed you,” he whispered, keeping her eye contact.

Sara gave a single, short nod and pressed the stethoscope against his chest. "Deep breath?"

Michael let go of his t-shirt with one hand and let it fall to rest against her wrist, holding her hand loosely in his on his chest. He sucked in a large breath, held it for a second and then let it out. After a few breaths, he smiled at her. “Is this physical all for my shot that you are not going to give me anyway?”

Sara moved her arm around his side, pressing the stethoscope to his back. She glanced towards the hallway. "Would you prefer to not come back?"

“You already know the answer to that,” Michael said, reaching behind his head and pulling his shirt off. He dropped it to the bed beside him and leant forward, digging his fingers into the mattress and feeling the cool metal circle press to his skin.

Sara pulled away, looping the stethoscope back around her neck. She picked up his chart, writing something down and looked back at him. "You look better today."

Michael stared at her again, watching her every move with an intense fascination. “I feel better, thank you,” he grinned, coughing a little and looking down to his feet. “And you? Have you…did you think about what I said I wanted?”

"Michael. . ." Sara cleared her throat and glanced to the hallway, pulling the curtain over. "Just because we both want something to happen doesn't mean it can. We can't pull this curtain over every time you're in here."

“But it won’t always be like this,” he said softly, reaching for her hand and bringing her knuckles up to his lips. “I’ll be out soon. I just want to know if you’ll wait. Wait for me like I’ll wait for you.”

"You mean you won't have sex with any of the other prisoners?" Sara teased softly, looking to where his lips were pressed to her knuckles. "I'm honored."

A smirk played across Michael’s lips and he looked up into her eyes, his own sparkling with a teasing glint. “I’ll try,” he whispered through his smile, licking his lips and watching her chuckle.

Sara took another step towards him. "You get me in trouble and I'll have Bellick put you in a cell with Avocado."

Michael reached out and rested his hand on her hips, guiding her body in between his legs as she walked towards him. “Would I do that?” he breathed tilting his head back, ready for her kiss.

"Depends on how mad you make me," Sara murmured, tilting her head down and brushing her lips across his.

Michael kissed her back, smiling against her lips before humming and then parting his lips gently. He trailed his tongue across her lip and nibbled on it. “Are you okay with this?” he breathed, deepening the kiss.

Sara opened her mouth to the kiss, running her fingertips along his shoulder, when she heard the door to the infirmary open. She quickly pulled away and moved around to his back, making it look like she was checking his bandage.

Katie stuck her head around the curtain. "Sara, are you going to be awhile? I'm going to start taking some of your appointments."

"Yeah, thanks," Sara muttered, not looking up from Michael's back. Katie gave Michael a look, "Morning, Mr. Scofield."

Michael offered her an unashamed smile and a nod. “Good morning nurse Katie,” he said smoothly, better at disguising their actions than Sara was.

Sara waited until she heard the click of the door before speaking. "We can't just make out every time you're in here."

Michael chuckled and looked down to his feet. “I’d invite you back to my cell but you know,” he shrugged welcoming her heat back into his personal space.

Sara smirked, moving back in front of him and lightly touching his chest. "I think that might raise suspicions."

“I can silence Sucre,” Michael laughed, smoothing his hands over her back and pulling her to him again.

"I mean it, Michael," Sara said softly. "We can't just make out every time you come in here. If people say things about us, it's going to look bad on you when you're up for parole."

Michael looked at her disheartened and swallowed hard. He let his hands drop from her body and sighed. “Are you saying…are you saying you’ll wait?”

"Something like that," Sara whispered, with a short nod. She glanced up, meeting his gaze. "Don't make me regret this."

Michael grinned boyishly and in a flurry of movement, cupped her face in his hands and pulled her lips to his feverishly. He kissed her, tongue massaging tongue and lips smacking lips until they needed to breath again. He rested his forehead against hers and licked her taste from his lips. “You wont,” he promised, smoothing his thumb over her cheek. “I promise, you won’t.”

  
Sara moved things around in the infirmary, waiting for her appointment with Michael. She had already told Katie the news she was leaving, and she had been surprised at how upset the woman had been. She looked even less forward to telling Michael. She had managed to talk Katie into helping her make it look like she was giving Michael his yearly physical, so she could keep him in longer.

Michael couldn’t help but smirk to himself as he was led to the infirmary for his yearly physical. He didn’t need a physical. Not this time of year anyway, but luckily for him, the guards rarely kept a check on things like that. He saw Sara through the glass before he reached the room and his heart began to pound faster because this was not a normal, routine visit. Yearly physical was code for something.

The CO ushered Michael into the room, then gave Sara a nod before leaving. Sara took a seat on her rolling stool, then picked up Michael's file. She opened it, then smiled at him. "How are you today?"

Michael broke out into a wide smile and hopped up on the bed in front of her. The sun shone through the window and illuminated Sara’s face, making her more radiant than he had ever realised. “Wow,” he breathed, keeping her eye contact. “You’re so beautiful,” he finished softly, ignoring her question. He glanced over and out of the clear window to where the guard was chatting with Katie. “I wish I could touch you and not get beaten to the ground,” he chuckled softly.

Sara smirked and shook her head just slightly. She stood and pulled the privacy curtain over before moving to pull the infirmary blinds shut. "Ready for your physical?"

“Of course, “ Michael nodded, stepping off the table and pulling her into his arms as she turned back around to face him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her to his chest while he smoothed his hands over her back. When he finally let her go, he brushed some hair from her face gently and smiled at her. “Where do you want me, Doc?”

Sara pressed her hand against his chest and smiled up at him for a moment before her face grew serious. She let her hand trail down to his hand, taking it in hers and gently squeezing. "We need to talk."

Michael frowned at her and felt his body flush with panic. “We do?” He asked softly.

"Michael. . ." Sara cleared her throat and took a step away from him. She squeezed his hand again, then let go. "I got a job offer."

Michael watched her move from him and his heart sank. “A job offer…” he repeated, swallowing hard. His cheeks prickled with a red glow and he covered his mouth with his hand as he slumped back against the bed. “Please tell me you mean to another part of the prison.”

"I did doctors without borders awhile ago. Before I went to rehab and came here." Sara crossed her arms and watched him closely. "They asked me back."

Michael’s eyes went wide and he let out a timid laugh. “They what?” He asked, shocked and unable to process the information he had been given. He looked to the floor and covered his face in his hands. “I mean…” he said slowly, lifting his face and staring out of the window. “…Congratulations. It’s better then this place, right?”

"I guess Africa does have some perks over Fox River," Sara laughed softly. She glanced up, trying to get his attention, before speaking the words she promised herself she wouldn't. "Michael, I don't have to go."

Michael snapped his gaze back towards hers and forced a smile. He reached out and took her hand, pulling her to him gently. “Are you kidding? You should go. I mean, Africa…” he trailed off, unable to say anything else in case he let his emotions over take him. He tried to stop his hands shaking as he run his thumb over the ridges of her knuckles. He watched his hand on hers, his head lowered and his smile fading away as he dropped his voice to a hushed whisper. “How long?”

"If you get your early parole. . ." Sara glanced up and met his eyes, lacing her fingers through his. "Then I'll be back a few weeks before you're released."

Michael let out another short burst of laughter and quickly cleared his throat. “That long…” he said, more to himself than anything. He smiled at her with quivering lips and shrugged loosely. “What will I do without you?”

"Maybe this is for the best?" Sara suggested softly, taking another step into him. She tugged on his grey shirt, and smiled up at him. "We're going to end up making a mistake, Michael. We're going to mess up and get caught and I don't want that for you."

Michael smiled at her and sighed. “Maybe you’re right,” he agreed in a less than convincing tone. “I want you, Sara. And seeing you every day doesn’t help,” he shook his head as he chuckled, lifting his hands to cup her face and kiss her softly on the forehead. “I’ll miss you.”

Sara trailed her fingers over his neck, tilting her head so that she could smile up at him. "Don't fall for the new doctor, okay?"

“What are you saying?” Michael teased, arching an eyebrow as he looked at her. He stared at her for a second, his eyes flickering between hers and her lips. He licked his lips and smirked. “I’m going to kiss you now, Dr. Tancredi,” he whispered as he leant forward.

"Not if I kiss you first," Sara teased softly, leaning in and meeting his mouth with hers. She took another step into him, tugging on his shirt.

Michael was pulled against her body and he let his arm go around her, pulling her into him with a hand on the base of her spine. He couldn’t help but smile against her lips at her teasing and dug a hand into her hair, holding her to him. “I think…I think I should get my physical before you go…” he rasped.

"We've made it this far," she whispered, pulling away just slightly. "We better not jeopardize it now."

Michel leant after her, capturing her lips for another kiss with a smirk. “Always thinking about sex…” he shook his head with an arched brow. “…I meant an actual physical…” he rolled his eyes over towards the door on the other side of the curtain. “…He’ll want to see paperwork.”

Sara rolled her eyes and pulled all the way away from him. She picked up her stethoscope. "Take your shirt off."

Michael inhaled hard and grabbed the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up and over his shoulders. He lifted his leg to perched on the edge of the bed and balled the shirt in his hands, placing it next to him as he sat. “I will miss you, you know,” he said again. “I want you to know that. Know that I’ll think about you every single day.”

"I know," she said softly, pressing the cool metal against his chest. She smiled. "I'll call Katie. Ask about you."

“You will?” he asked boyishly, a grin growing on his features. “You’ll have to assign my shots to Katie then. Just so we can chat. No actual shots because I don’t need them now,” he smiled and looked a little nervous. “Tell Katie no shots. I hate shots.”

Sara snaked her arm around his middle, pressing the stethoscope to his back and breathing against his neck. "Alright. No shots."

Michael fluttered his eyes closed and licked his lips, trying to slow his heartbeat. “How does everything sound?” He whispered.

Sara let her lips brush against his neck just slightly before pulling away. "Sounds perfect."

Michael smoothed his fingertips down her arm and gripped at her wrist, lifted her hand and flattening it against his bare chest. Her fingers spread out over the indigo lines of his tattoo and he rested his hand over hers as his heartbeat thumped under their hands. “That feels normal to you?” He smirked.

Sara blushed a little and glanced down. She stepped closer to him again and rested her forehead against his. "I'll miss you."

Michael sighed when their foreheads met and he rolled his head sideways a little. “Not as much as I’ll miss you,” he breathed. “Please, be careful. Try not to fall in love with any patients,” he teased, tucking her hair behind her ear with a gentle push from his fingertip. “I’ll be waiting when you get back.”

"You be careful too," Sara warned quietly. She traced her fingertips up his arm, fluttering her eyes shut. "Don't get into anything you can't get out of. I mean it, Michael."

Michael titled his head back and looked up into her eyes. “I promise,” he nodded, pulling her to him even closer for another kiss. He let his hands slide around her body, holding her to him while his tongue danced with hers and his lips moved against her. “I really, really promise,” he said again, his voice hazy and hushed.

"Okay. . ." Sara pulled away again. "Michael, you'd better get going."

“Okay…” Michael agreed, letting her pull away until his arm locked straight and then he pulled her back to him again. “One more,” he smirked, watched her eyes rolled closed as he kissed her softly, his lips teasing her with feather light touches.

  
“Scofield!” The CO bellowed down the corridor as he made his way to the cell Michael shared with Sucre. “You got a visitor!”

Michael looked up from the book he was reading and frowned at the CO. “For me?” Michael asked shocked. He figured it was Lincoln because Sara was in Africa still, but Lincoln rarely visited him, which he understood, considering his time in prison was less than enjoyable.

“Yes, you. Now are you gonna get your ass out here or not?” Michael hopped off of his bunk and shrugged at Sucre as he was cuffed at the door. “Come on, come on, before visiting hour is up.”

Sara sat on the bench seat, tapping her fingertips on the table. A couple CO's she didn't recognize were guarding the area, and she couldn't help but wonder what else had changed around Fox River. She'd had a memorable experience overseas, but she was more than happy to be home.

“It’s my brother, right?” Michel asked the CO as he was led through the first door into the hall between the two doors. The first was locked and the second was only able to open after the first had shut for security reasons. “Right?” Michael repeated when the CO ignored him.

“Just keep your hands to yourself,” The CO said as the buzzer sounded and the door was pulled open. Michael frowned and scanned the room for Lincoln’s bulk, but he didn’t see it. There were a few other prisoners with visitors and two people waiting on benches at tables. The first was a tall, red haired woman and the second was a short red haired woman. Michael frowned even harder as the CO led him up to the first table and pushed him into the seat.

Sara met Michael's gaze and couldn't stop the huge grin from breaking out on her face. She leaned forward a little, touching his hand with one of her fingers. "Hey, you."

“No touching,” The CO scolded, pulling Michael’s cuffed wrists up and away from Sara’s. He jabbed the key into the lock and turned the mechanism, freeing Michael’s wrists from the steel bracelets.

“Hey,” Michael breathed, not taking his eyes from Sara. “Wow, you’re here,” he said again, unable to hide his own grin plastered on his face. “What happened to Africa?” he said softly as the CO walked away with a jingling key belt. “When did you get back? How long where you gone? Wow, Sara…” Michael breathed after his ramble. “…I wish I could touch you.”

"I wish you could touch me too," Sara murmured quietly, pulling her hands back to herself. "I got back yesterday morning, slept all day and all night." She laughed quietly. "It was good. It was nice to get away. I missed you."

“Aww Sara…” Michael whispered, reaching for her hand when the CO had gone out of sight. “…I missed you so much,” he grinned, pulling her hand towards his face and kissing her hand. “I can’t believe you’re here. This is a dream…This is a dream and I’ll wake up…”

"I'm really here," Sara whispered, moving closer to him. "I'm back for good. I hear you're getting out of this place soon."

Michael nodded enthusiastically and fumbled with her hand in his. “A week,” he said shocked by his own words. “That’s seven days Sara. Seven days and we can be together.”

Sara nodded, squeezing his hand tightly. "People have been treating you well in here?"

Michael lost his smile and shrugged. “Like a convict,” he said softly, looking down at the metallic table.

"Seven more days and you don't have to worry about that anymore," Sara whispered, shaking her head. "How's Sucre?"

Michael nodded and a small smile crept across his lips as he inhaled. “He’s up for parole soon. And his girlfriend is now his fiancée and that baby is a boy,” Michael said proudly on behalf of his cellmate. “He’s so proud,” he chuckled, recalling how Sucre talked about his unborn child all day long.

"That's amazing!" Sara laughed, nodding her head. She tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled at him. "Does he want more kids when he gets out of here?"

Michael looked up to her and was struck speechless by her smile for a second. “You know…” he began before his words failed him and he sighed heavily. “…I don’t know.”

Sara's smile grew wider. "Do you want kids when you get out of here?"

Michael looked at her shocked for a second, gulping in his throat and feeling the familiar creep of a pink glow on his cheeks. “With you?” He croaked before clearing his throat.

The guard moved closer to them and she pulled her hand away, resting her chin on her closed fist. "With anyone."

“Do you?” Michael smirked, watching the guard pass out of the corner of his eye and missing her contact immediately.

Sara glanced down at her watch, then looked back at him, shrugging a little. "I'm not getting any younger."

Michael frowned and let out a nervous laugh, shooting a glance over his shoulder before leaning forward over the table. His breath condensed against the cool metal as he spoke. “Are you saying you want kids with me?”

"I'm not saying anything, Michael," Sara shook her head slowly. "I'm not trying to scare you away. We'll see how we work outside of these walls."

Michael smiled at her softly and shook his head slowly. “I’m not scared, Sara,” he assured her kindly. “But we’ll see. You might not like me when I’m not in my prison issues,” he winked.

Sara leaned over and smoothed his collar down. "We'll have to get you some blue shirts."

Sara’s skin brushed Michael’s neck gently and he sighed audibly. Her touching him now, as a visitor, was so much different to when she touched him as his doctor. As a professional. “Blue shirts…” he mumbled, licking his lips. “…Sounds good,” he rasped.

Sara opened her mouth to say something but the buzzer sounded and the CO stepped forward. "Scofield. Time to go."

She smiled softly and shrugged. "See you when you're free."

Michael couldn’t tear his eyes from hers as the CO hooked a hand under his elbow and hauled him to his feet, eagerly cuffing him back up with a rickety metal sound. “I can’t wait,” he whispered to her, pouting out his lips softly and blowing her a silent kiss as the CO pulled him backwards and turned him around.

**Author's Note:**

> eternalcaptainswan - i want you to know i appreciate every single kudos you leave me for my works and i would love to chat to you! Drop me an email :)


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